How We Came to Be
by bigemptyheart
Summary: Brief moments over the summer after the war that lead up to Harry and Ginny's reunion.


**To: **rumplesnorcack**  
Title:** How We Came to Be  
**Author/Artist:** bigemptyheart  
**Pairing:** Harry/Ginny  
**Raiting: **PG  
**Word count:** 2000+  
**Summary: **Brief moments over the summer after the war that lead up to Harry and Ginny's reunion.

**Author's notes: **You requested a fluffy romance with a misunderstanding between Harry and Ginny. I think I included almost everything else you wanted. I hope you like it and thank you for your patience!

Written for the **takingitinturns** 2010 fic exchange

The only thing separating you from Ginny is her sobbing mother. Mrs. Weasley clutches her hand with such a force that you bet after people have retreated to the Burrow to wallow in their own misery, you could still trace Mrs. Weasley's finger prints on her palm.

From the corner of your eye you see her swat away her tears and you wish she wasn't so ashamed to cry at her brother's funeral. You want to walk over to her and unravel her hand from her mum's grip and massage the blood back into her hand. You want to whisper to her that Fred would be so ashamed that she is wearing all black because she might laugh and you really like it when she laughs. You want to kiss her face wear tears should be soaking her skin and wrap your arms around her waist and be her support like Hermione is for Ron right in front of you, so she knows she doesn't have to stand alone.

But you don't because it has been a week and in that time the only thing she has said to you is she thinks you could use some sleep. And you feel foolish for thinking she would not be able to handle being the girlfriend of Voldemort's number one target when she so clearly demonstrated her strength _that_ night.

You wish you had said something else to her last year when you and her stood in almost the exact same position at another funeral. Or maybe you wish you had said nothing at all because now she doesn't belong to you.

"Harry, dear" Mrs. Weasley breaks you train of thought. Her voice is masked with grief and is almost unrecognizable to you.

"We'll be leaving for the Burrow soon, are you coming with us?"

You look to the right where Ginny stood moments before and wonder if we includes her.

"Yeah, I'm coming."

You drag your feet down the stairs because last night you and Ron got pissed and you see no point in rushing to breakfast with a bleeding headache. The closer you get to the kitchen the more distinct the voices become. You hear Ginny and Ron arguing and groan, knowing it will only make your headache worse.

"Give it back."

"Tell me who it's from."

"It's just a letter, Ron. Give it back."

"If you're not going to tell me, then let's have a look. See who it's from."

You hear parchment ripping and assume Ron's read the name at the bottom of the letter because he's laughing now.

"Gwenog. Gwenog Jones." Ron cackles again and says "What kind of a name is Gwenog _Jones_?"

"Well what kind of a name is Ronald?"

"His parents must 'ave been a pair of nutters to name a bloke Gwenog."

"Gwenog is a _girl's_ name. Honestly Ron, how thick could you be?"

You turn the corner in the Burrow's kitchen and see Hermione sitting at the table. "Morning Harry." From the look on her face you assume this argument has been going on for a while.

"Morning," you reply while shoveling some toast onto your plate.

"'Arry," Ron turns to you "who do you recon is nuttier? The parents for naming their kid Gwenog, or the kid for not changing their name?"

You shrug, not wanting to be dragged into the argument, and say to plate "S'pose it's the person who spends their mornings debating who's the maddest."

Ron scowls, Ginny smiles and the pain in your head eases up a bit.

You watch her pluck the letter from Ron's hand and skip out of the room. And you wonder if she's ever skipped off to read a letter from you. Or if she read bits of it aloud to her friends in the Common Room, like other girls. Then you realize, you've never written her a letter before. You two have always been in the same place at the same time. But now you'll be countries apart and there is so much you could tell her in a letter. You could write about how hard Auror training was that day and she would not even have to respond with advice or anything. Just knowing that she's listening would be enough for could tell her a new joke you learned or how Percy came over for dinner, because you know how much she really wants her family to get along consider telling her that you miss looking at her because she's the prettiest girl you know. Though you have never been good with words and hope she doesn't read her letters aloud.

And then the whole idea seems pointless because who writes love letters to girls that aren't their girlfriend.

Your head starts to throb and you wish you hadn't thought of letters in the first place.

A dark green package with tiny Golden Snitches zooming across the wrapping lands in your lap.

"Happy Birthday Harry," Ginny says.

You notice the muggle tape holding the paper together and hope she learned how to wrap the muggle way just for you. No one's ever wrapped a present for you the muggle way.

Suddenly everything smells of lavender shampoo because she is sitting next to you on the swing you've occupied for the later half of the night.

"I hope you like it."

You slide your finger under the wrapping and watch the tape release from the pressure. _Everything an Auror in Training Should Know and More_ the title says. Before you can finish tearing off the paper she's telling you about how she found the book while helping Andromeda clean out Remus' old desk. She says it used to belong to your father and he scribbled some interesting tips in the margins.

"I'm sure once you translate that chicken scratch you might find something helpful."

She sounds excited for your future and it makes you feel one hundred times more excited because she believes in you.

"Thank you Ginny."

You want to say something more, something important that she might remember years from now. But right now you don't know the words to tell her that would make everything all right. Instead you focus on her thigh muscle relax and contract as she pushes the rusty swing back and forth with her foot.

"Eee-uh, eee-uh," the hinges say and the more you listen the more it sounds like the swing is telling you to kiss her.

You try to imagine what she would say if you just leaned over, held her head in your hands and kissed her. You remember what it felt like the first time, it made your whole body feel warm and happy and you hope that she would kiss you the same way.

Then you see Ron and he must recognize the look on your face because he looks like he could rip you apart faster than a dragon. The sounds of the swing fade back to "eee-uh" and Ginny gets up to leave because her mom is calling her.

And she takes the smell of lavender and the fantasy with her.

Your eyes are closed but the sun still penetrates the darkness. The trees surrounding the lake are dark outlines under your lids and then there is an even darker shadow hovering above you, cutting off your connection to the warmth of the sun.

"Can you hand me a towel?"

The voice belongs to Hermione.

You hand her a towel without opening your eyes and hope she takes it and leaves.

Instead she sits down next to you and sighs heavily and you know you're in for an ear full.

You sit in silence for a minute, Hermione picks at the grass and you look out to the lake where the Weasleys are engaged in a splash fight.

Finally Hermione speaks again. "She's gotten a few offers to play Quidditch." A moment later she says "Professionally," as if you think there's some other way. "She said you're the best person she's ever known, but she doesn't want to wait another year for you to make up your mind about her."

You want to know how it is that Hermione has information on everyone and as if she's read your mind, she reminds you. "Girls talk about everything Harry."

"I wouldn't know what to say to her."

"Maybe that's the problem. You think everything needs some lengthy explanation."

"Well you seem to know everything. Tell me, what am I supposed to do?"

"Just be with her." Hermione shrugs as if it's the simplest answer and you almost scoff because you don't want to believe it's that easy.

Last night Ron told you and Hermione he was worried Ginny would not be able to handle Hogwarts on her own. Standing at the train station now, though, you realize how wrong he is.

You watch her embrace Neville and then a girl you don't recognize and several people whom you've never spoken to. It dawns on you that she has a whole other life separate from you and from saving the wizard world. You want to be part of that life too and a part of everything that has to do with Ginny Weasley.

Then she's standing in front of you, thanking you for coming with her and wishing you good luck. You don't care what more she has to say because you need to speak up before it's too late.

"I'm sorry." It isn't meaningful or special and you know she deserves better, but at least it's out there.

Her eyes flick to the clock behind you and you don't want her to worry about the time. You want her to focus on you.

So you grab onto her jacket, pull her toward you, and kiss her. Her mouth is warm and she's kissing you back and all you can think is that it's better than before.

When it's over you ask her if you can write to her. She smiles and nods.

"I'll see you at Christmas, Harry."

"Yeah, see you then."


End file.
